Category Archives: MUSICAL MONDAY

Growing up in South Australia with all the horror of my brothers, their friends and mine threatened with the dreaded “lottery”… which could see them conscripted, at the age of 19, to go fight in Vietnam gave me a perspective which you can read about here.

Young people, at that time, gave voice to their opposition of government decisions which severely impacted on their lives through music and song. My children grew up to the sounds of “Songs of the Protest Era”and right now I can’t get one particular song out of my mind, given the way our Australian political situation is playing out right now.

Colour me naive and call me “Pollyanna” but I still don’t understand why people don’t stand together to bring about change for the betterment of all. Way back “before Adam was a boy”John Farnham described my feelings, sentiments and view perfectly with “The Voice” and I’ll never stop speaking my truth, and describing my views, despite all attempts to silence. Suspect it’s in my DNA – come in Susan 😆

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We have The chance to turn the pages over We can write what we want to write We gotta make ends meet, before we get much older

We’re all someone’s daughter We’re all someone’s son How long can we look at each other Down the barrel of a gun?

Chorus: You’re the voice, try and understand it Make a noise and make it clear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o! We’re not gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live with fear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o!

This time We know we all stand together With the power to be powerful Believing, we can make it better

Oooooooh, We’re all someone’s daughter We’re all someone’s son How long can we look at each other Down the barrel of a gun?…

You’re the voice, try and understand it Make a noise and make it clear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o! We’re not gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live with fear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o!

Ooooooh We’re all someone’s daughter We’re all someone’s son How long can we look at each other Down the barrel of a gun?…

You’re the voice, try and understand it Make a noise and make it clear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o! We’re not gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live with fear Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o!

Ahhh… I’ve been going through quite a lot of emotional turmoil lately and the whole “Remembrance Day“ bizzo, this year, has simply added to it. Music certainly is “balm for my soul” and I just about cracked up when chancing upon “The Digger’s Song” so am sharing in case you also need a spot of stress release… 😆

The notes on “YouTube” report:

“The diggers song also known as “Dinky Di”, this song, one of many to the tune “Villikins and his Dinah,” was probably first sung by Australian soldiers during the first World War, so it is hardly a “modern” song.

Bill Scott wrote the following notes in his compilation, “The Second Penguin Australian Songbook” (Penguin Books Australia, Ringwood, Victoria, 1980): I first heard this song during the Second World War, sung with great feeling by a soldier of the Sixth Division, who sang it as above, except that instead of using the first and second lines of the second verse, he sang:

The Digger then shot him a murderous look. He said, ‘I’m just back from that place called Tobruk.’

The song was not only sung during the first and second World Wars but it was updated to fit the settings of both the Korean and Vietnamese wars.”

“The Fields of Athenry” is a folk song about the Great Irish Famine (1845-1849), composed in the 1970s by Inchicore songwriter Pete St. John and first recorded by Irish ballad singer Danny Doyle. It tells the story of the famine through first-person narrative, recounting the tale of a prisoner who has been sentenced to being transported to Botany Bay, Australia, for stealing food to feed his starving family. The claim has been made that the words originate from a broadsheet ballad published in the 1880s by Devlin in Dublin with a different tune; however Pete St. John has stated definitively that he wrote the words as well as the music, so the story of the 1880s broadsheet may be false.

Whilst thinking about my Grand daughter’s joy today, I was also remembering my feelings of 50 years ago, and just a couple of years older than she is now, as I sat and cried with happiness to be in Centennial Hall, Adelaide, South Australia at the “Beatles” concert. Of course all I could see were tiny little specks on the faraway stage and all I could hear was the screaming of hysterical girls all around but it was indeed a night to remember.

Whilst the young folk are enjoying their night of delight right now, at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre, I’ve been having a kind of shared pleasure here in my very own home. How could that be?… you may well ask. 😆 Well, I’ve been watching a vid of the Irish version of “Kiss You” and am loving trying to sing along in the beautiful Irish, which touches into my very soul and takes me right back to my Irish origins. What a delight to see young Irish people singing popular songs in their own language 🙂

For the English lyrics, and a vid of One Direction performing “Kiss You”, please click HERE

Seems to me that my head is a place where the distant past (of my ancestors), my personal past and my personal present kind of fuse, and come together, in the most unexpected of ways. Maybe that’s how it is for you too?

One of the greatest, and most unexpected, joys of blogging has to be the friends you meet along the way whom tell the most amazing of stories which often trigger your own memories. The fun in the sharing is incomparable.

One such person is J.G. Burdette and her blog “Map of Time” which is such a joy, bringing to me so much new information and especially friendship, compassion and understanding… along with a goodly measure of laughter and good “old fashioned” fun.

J.G’s most recent post is re: the Sinking of the Bismarck, which I recommend you read and can be accessed HERE.

Whilst reading J.G’s account of the sinking of the Bismarck significant moments, during my teenage years, came flooding back. The song of the sinking, by Johnny Horton, kept ringing in my ears and I could see our old/ family home at 34 New Street, Queenstown, South Australia. There, in the lounge room, were my three brothers and I parading around, maybe pretending to be the “drummers” or marching or punching the air… or whatever. What we were doing was having a jolly good time as we shouted out the words:

“…and we’ve gotta sink the Bismarck ‘cos the world depends on US!!!”

J.G’s fun reply to my comment, on her Blog, took me back to YouTube and to the most memorable song of all during those heady, fun and joyous years of my youth… “The Battle of New Orleans“, also sung by Johnny Horton, of the USofA.

Happens that this tune has the same rousing “drum beat”, which we loved, but an additional attraction was that it raised the ire of my dad who would often declare…

“I’m BRITISH… and PROUD OF IT!!!”…

So, being typical teenagers… my brothers and I enjoyed playing “The Battle of New Orleans” as loud as loud could be and especially raucously singing words such as:

“… and we beat the BLOODY BRITISH, in a town in New Orleans!!!”

Oh, deary me… my poor dad. Teenage rebellion, of that type, must have been very difficult to swallow. Anyway, I’m laughing cos I’ve been “paid back” in spades by the small rebellious behaviours of my own three children.

Happens that Johnny Horton also released a British Version which didn’t appeal to my three brothers, and I, at all.

Thanks for bringing back the memories J.G… and especially enabling me to share this particular part of our “Family Story” with the descendants.

Of course… as I’ve matured my heart is sad and so sorry for all those courageous men, of the German Navy, who battled on so fiercely, bravely and with great loyalty to their country. May they all forever R.I.P. and may the killing stop and the whole world find a way to live together peacefully.

The lilting voice of “Geraldine Sexton” drew my daughter, Kirrily Ann, and myself to Geraldine as she sat perched on a stone wall adjacent to the Bunratty Folk Museum in County Clare, Ireland in 1994…. My first visit to the land of our Ancestors. This is for you mum…

My 2X Great Grandmother. Susan Kelleher

Mum closely identified with our Irish Heritage which soon became part of my personal identification, through the stories passed down through the generations. We heard how the ship my Great Great Grandmother, Susan Kelleher, immigrated to South Australia on was wrecked as they were approaching their final destination. How everything she owned went down with the “Nashwauk” and especially meaningful was hearing of Susan’s reluctance to leave her family, and her homeland… but that the effects of the “Potato Famine” made this a necessity.

I dedicate this song to my Susan Kelleher, born Country Clare, Ireland in 1836 and died in Broken Hill, New South Wales, Australia on 9 Apr 1922 leaving behind three living daughters and one son, with three daughters deceased. “The grandchildren and great grandchildren number 71.” Susan never did return to her native land.

Lastly I thank my precious children: Cullen Andrew, Jarren Vaughan (deceased), Kirrily Ann and Chad Sean Habel for enriching my life and loving me. This is for you my lovelies.

Never could I have imagined that blogging my Family History, intended only as a legacy to my descendants, would have the added bonus of helping make some wonderful “virtual” friends. One such person is Angela, whose Blog, “A SILVER VOICE FROM IRELAND”, both entertains and informs. As I was musing over which tune to share today, the following came as a blessing from Angela via our “conversation” on her recent post “A New Age: Leaving”.

It’s by Liam Clancy, is titled “The Parting Glass”, and Angela tells me it’s usually sang at the end of gatherings, in that beautiful land of Ireland… which I call “My Land”..

The Parting Glass

“Oh all the money that e’er I seeI spent it in good company.And all the harm that e’er I’ve donealas, it was to none but me.

And all I’ve done for want of witto memory now I can’t recall.So fill to me the parting glassgood night and joy be with you all.

Oh all the comrades that e’er I hadthey are sorry for my going away.And all the sweethearts that e’er I hadthey would wish me one more day to stay.

But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise and you should not.I’ll gently rise and softly callgood night and joy be with you all.”

Finally I must share the song which describes perfectly my feeling for that part of the world, my Great Great Grandmother’s Homeland, which deep down in my very soul I truly feel is “My Land”…

Where the River Shannon Flows

There’s a pretty spot in IrelandI always claim for my landWhere the faeries and the blarney will never ever die‘Tis the land of the shillalehAnd my heart goes back there dailyTo the girl I left behind me when we kissed and said goodbye

Where dear old Shannon’s flowingWhere the three leaf shamrock growsWhere my heart is I am going to my little Irish roseAnd the moment that I meet herWith a hug and kiss I’ll greet herFor there’s not a colleen sweeter where the River Shannon flows.

Sure no letter I’ll be mailingFor soon will I be sailingAnd I’ll bless the ship that takes me to my dear old Erin’s shoreThere I’ll settle down foreverAnd I’ll leave the old sod neverAnd I’ll whisper to my sweetheart “Come and take my name as thore

Where dear old Shannon’s flowingWhere the three shamrock growsWhere my heart is I am going to my little Irish roseAnd the moment that I meet herWith a hug and kiss I’ll greet herFor there’s not a colleen sweeter where the River Shannon flows.”

The Pub With No Beer was written in 1943, during the second world war, by Dan Sheahan, an Irish cane cutter. The story is that he went to his favourite pub, the Day Dawn Hotel in Ingham, (northern Queensland) but was told by the Publican Gladys Harvey, that there was no beer left, due to a drinking binge by some black American soldiers the previous night. Consoling himself with a glass of wine, he sat down to write a poem called “A Pub without Beer.”

Ingham, North Queensland, Australia. Source: Wikipedia

Dan Sheahan’s poem was later renamed “A Pub with No Beer” by Gordon Parsons, who made several changes to the lyrics and set it to music. The song made famous by the late Slim Dusty.

The Day Dawn Hotel has been replaced with Lee’s Hotel and a Commemoration Plaque records the origin of “The Pub With No Beer.”

“The Drover’s Boy” is a song by Ted Egan and recalls the time when it was illegal for Caucasians and Aborigines to marry, and the death of an Aborigine went unnoticed by the white community. This popular and moving Australian folk song comes from a true story about a Caucasian drover (the Australian name for a cowboy or sheep herder) who is forced to pass off his Aboriginal wife as his “drover’s boy”. Ted Egan wrote this song as a tribute to the Aboriginal stockwomen, in the hope that one day their enormous contribution to the Australian pastoral industry might be recognized and honoured.

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Ted’s song has been expanded into a book… the details can be found HERE.

THANKS TO: Wikipedia… please click HERE for the link and further information.

THANKS FOR DROPPING BY…

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